The sunlight is shining through the large glass pane to my right, warming my face. On the other side of the glass, which runs the length of the room, the trees are wearing their new autumn colours while the thrum of the city is going on behind them.

When I close my eyes I can still see the silhouette of the stranger sitting be-headphoned in front of me. The library is always busy enough that tables need to be shared with new people in a comfortable silence.

The rest of the library isn’t silent. Is that really true of anywhere? But the noise is low and calming: children talking to their parents in exaggerated whispers, library staff giving advice in hushed tones, bags being emptied of books and tools of study. I can hear a man giving a monologue behind rows of shelves, I can’t hear the words, but it has the tune of elaborate explanation. I wonder how well it’s being received by whoever is the subject.

Here I sit between the qui-rov and the lat-lus of the fiction section. A million words in those shelves and a scattering of words out here.

This magical mala came to me on the first day of fall, the anniversary of our friendship, a crescent moon, the moon of Lord Shiva. An auspicious time.

She laid across my heart like a healing hand, an encouraging friend. The flash of rainbow in her labradorite face lit up like a laugh. She made me smile through my tears. A smile that turns the corner of my lips like the points of a crescent moon pierces the sky. Light in the darkness.

I chose to meditate on the beach. A place where sand meets water. Where now meets always. The space between what was and what is. Constantly shifting like the surface of the water. Dancing waves concealing great depths.

There could never be enough time to drink it all in. Not in this lifetime, not in 10 lifetimes. The eternal moment.

The feeling of the grass under my skin. The penetrating warmth of the sun on my face. The gentle gurgling sound of the water licking the rocks. The sparkle of the sun on the lake shines like spilled glitter. Life all around.

Some ducks preen on a broken dock, others dive for bugs; they move like see saws…tail, head, tail, head. The minnows dart in shallow green-grey water. The shadow of a gull streaks across the canvas of pebbles and sand on the lake floor. The shadow maker glides gracefully to land a few feet from where I sit. A small spider scurries erratically in the grass, each blade bending to its 8 tiny limbs. In the distance someone paddle boarding, digging the paddle into the water and slowly skimming forward, dig and drift, dig and drift. The leaves above slowly turn flame colored at an imperceptible pace. Distant vehicles flash like little shiny bugs as they crawl over the bridge. A sailboat careens serenely, a white triangle in a blue square.

I don’t want to leave this place. But I must. All things end. All moments blend into the next. The Now is simultaneously beginning and ending forever.

And so you and I will always be. The sweetness of your love. The touch of your fingertips on my temple like the sun kisses me now. I wish I could sneak back into forever. Those moments that seemed to stretch on beyond the horizon, beyond the scope of time. The sun always sets. Summer turns to fall. I tried to stretch your love like like a blanket, pull the corners around to fit, pull and plead and squeeze and groan, say over and over, “This is enough.” Still, I turned in my sleep, uncovered feet, wondering if this too-small sheet could keep me warm.

And so instead of waiting until the fibers fray, until your face is worn with the effort of trying to be something your not, I must go out into the cold alone. I need to make my own warmth now, stoke the fire of my own heart until it burns so bright that I could light the world with its radiance. And you were the spark, my dearest friend. I will love with all the passion you showed me. Fierce and forever. Full and forgiving. The kind of love that seeps into all the cracks of loneliness and rejection and fills them with acceptance.

Every breath on my lips is a kiss. Every beat of my heart is an embrace. I love you. Now and always.

I am a 500h certified yoga instructor who’s been living and teaching in Kelowna BC for the last 6 years. I teach at TWP Fitness as well as manage Shift Power Yoga in West Kelowna, where it is our mission to create community and share tools that empower people to live their most extraordinary lives!

This beautiful mala came to be the morning after the new moon in Leo, which is said to bring challenges when dealing with patience, so it was perfect timing. As soon as I opened the package, I felt a calming and sense of balance take over me.
As I lay in my bed that morning, I decided that I would be more diligent in my home practice of yoga. While thinking this, the doorbell rang and the mala was on my doorstep. This mala was meant to help me achieve that goal.
I am privileged to be part of this magical project. Just knowing where this mala has been and where it still will be traveling gives me a feeling of great pride and camaraderie with the others involved in this project. Before sending Ms. Mala off to Nova Scotia, I smudged her with sage and palo santo as well as infused her with palo santo oil. She should have some positive vibes for the rest of her journey!

It is the center of everything that is beating. It tells me how to feel. It tickles my heart when I am inflated with love. It flutters when I am nervous, and whispers to tread lightly. It aches when I am wounded emotionally, and when I’m angry it sets fire beneath my lungs, reminding me to breathe. Hidden from sight and earshot, it roars beneath my chest; as the core of a volcano roars peacefully beneath Earth’s surface.
It is energy. A fizzing, swirling mass of energy. Taking shape and dancing circles as the universe does when you step back and view it as a whole. Weightless and bright, twinkling with an array of colors beyond what the eyes can see. Although weightless, it is powerful. I swear I can feel it churning. I swear I can hear it vibrating. I can hear what it needs, and if I listen long enough, I can hear what I need.
Inside of my body, my soul is protected. As armor protects the body, my body houses and protects my soul. My soul sinks away from my bones to the pit of my belly when it needs rest. The body is a vehicle, moving the soul from place to place, letting it experience what it longs for. The body is an expression. The way we soften when the soul is content, the way we stiffen when the soul is jarred, and the way we wilt when we are deprived of positive emotional energy.
The soul is limitless. It is always evolving, always growing, and constantly adapting. Organically computing happiness, hopes, and fears and learning to accept them even if our ego may not. Happiness is achieved when our desire to listen is greater than our desire to speak. We must live in tandem with our souls. We must understand them, respect them, and set aside time to quiet our minds and listen to our soul communicate. We must realize that we are not just that of human anatomy. We are beings, we are organic, and we are born from the universe. Everything we need to be happy and find peace is accepting contentment within us. Everything that we need to survive, the Earth has equipped us with. We are no greater than that. We are no greater than nature.

The packaged I had been waiting for arrived, and though I had been looking forward to it, I placed it aside preferring to open it in a quiet moment. The sun was shining as I sat outside watching my boyfriend’s 9 year old daughter Savannah ride her bike. The mala caught her attention, and together we went through the package, read all of the messages from its hosts so far, and talked about the purpose of a mala. “But it can mean different things to each person? She asked. “Sure, and it often does. What do you think it means to you?” We volleyed ideas back and forth before her final choice, “patience, love, and calm.” As I placed it around her little torso, I reminded her to look at the mala and remember her mantra. I had no expectations. Later that night, I was visibly anxious, flying around the kitchen cleaning up from dinner, rushing to put together lunches, and making kefir simultaneously, when Savannah came up to me, placed the mala around my neck, cupped my hands in hers, and said, “Vanessa: patience, love, and calm.”

6-22-17
As I taught a private, outdoor yoga class for two little ones and their mothers, the idea that the mala represents connection seemed so simplistic. We talked about how each of the beads whether seeds or stones are important to the mala’s beauty and function. When the children were asked if it would be good to crush one of the seeds, they immediately responded, “No!” The children knew that we needed to care for each of the beads on the mala. We actually needed to take extra care with the seeds.

The discussion turned to the importance of interconnection in nature. Although some living things may be inconvenient or make us uncomfortable, each one is important to the health of the natural world. We know how important bees are to our survival. We may not be comfortable if a bee is buzzing too close to our body, but our discomfort makes them no less important. An ant crawled across a child’s yoga mat. Initially, the child reacted in fear. The moms and I explained that it was not a big deal and that the ant also has an important role in nature.

People also have the same level of interconnection. Why do adults have difficulty acknowledging and respecting the connections between each and every person? Why would we think our discomfort makes another less important? How can we cultivate practices that will reduce our reactivity and allow us to respond mindfully?

6-27-17
When I attended a local school board meeting as part of a group who ask that the school do more to support transgender students, I wore the mala. We stood outside the school and greeted each person as they entered. There was a sense of connection between those in our group, and often with those attending the meeting. Coincidentally, the newly crowned Miss New Jersey attended the meeting that night. She asked one of the young people about our concern at the school, she understood the importance of safe, supportive schools for transgender students. She agreed to a photo with our group. That brief connection created a positive energy and lightness.

That night was my first time speaking at a school board meeting to support trans students. Is speaking out for those who may or may not be able to speak for themselves yoga? Is this related to the mala in some way? I believe it most certainly is! In my mind yoga is social justice. Yoga knows that we are all connected. When one of us is harmed, we are all harmed. When one rises, we all rise.

We learn in the Yamas the principle of non-violence (ahimsa). Will staying silent to injustice cause additional harm? Does a compassionate response require us to stand up for what is right? Does this mean that if we are not caused direct harm we can look away?

We also follow the principle of truthfulness (satya). Does that mean we must speak and act with integrity? Might this also mean that we must speak the truth to those in power? How can we support those who are true to themselves? Can we recognize the truth of our own privilege and use it to benefit others?

Sometimes in yoga we get focused on the alignment of physical pose, whether we sweat, or if we can stick a handstand. I imagine a yoga practice where we focus more on speaking out against injustice, providing support through action to marginalized groups, and doing the work to make the world a better place.

7-5-17
As I write this reflecting upon my experience with the mala, gratitude is the overwhelming emotion. The connection with the other inspirational people from all over the world is empowering. Reflecting upon this experience allowed me a deeper exploration of some thoughts I previously found difficult to put into words. I deeply appreciate the opportunity to be part of this beautiful project.

She thought she had finally gotten to the place in her life that she had worked so hard for. The appreciative, hardworking, gentleman of a boyfriend. The money saved to buy a home. The promotion at work at a job she loves. The ability to be able to pursue her passions: yoga and art. They had agreed to move in together and things seemed to be falling into place.
But suddenly, they weren’t so much falling into place as they appeared to be falling apart. Why? What happened? They were arguing non-stop over anything, saying hurtful and nasty things to each other. She considered breaking up but wondered “what if this was due to his stress and an upcoming life/relationship change? Do I really want to throw away four years over that?” She felt so along; she felt stuck. She felt as if no matter what she did, it just fueled the fire more and the arguing would continue.
She cried to her friends who generously listened; she cried herself to sleep. But she eventually felt tired of crying. On the new moon, she turned it over to the universe. Everything. Her feelings, thoughts, fears, and whatever tears that were left. She wrote a letter and mailed it: c/o her Spirit Guides.
The next morning, as suddenly as things appeared to be falling apart, she saw that everything had landed on the earth. Scattered, but landed. She walked over and picked up each piece, pausing to look at each one, and smiled…